


i'm gonna miss you when you're dead and gone

by spidermanlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Btw this is my first smut so, But mostly fluff, Cancer, Did i mention this is based on, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut, The fault in our stars, and, i still don't know how to tag so don't yell at me, looking for alaska, no judging, pretty crazy, suicidal, yeah i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:59:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spidermanlou/pseuds/spidermanlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My name is Harry, and I have six months to live."</p><p>Based on The Fault in Our Stars and Looking for Alaska.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm gonna miss you when you're dead and gone

**Author's Note:**

> harry is made to be augustus and alaska, but i changed a lot of this to make my own, and that kinda shizzzzzzzzzz. 
> 
> ps. i'm a girl, and i read a LOOOOOOT of gay smut, but yeah, i've never written it until this, so don't yell at me if it's bad. i'm a girl. i don't have gay sex ok? ok. 
> 
> PSS. VOTE/COMMENT/READ AGAIN ON THIS ON WATTPAD HERE(seriously it would mean theeee world to me!)  
> http://www.wattpad.com/story/11344569-i%27m-gonna-miss-you-when-you%27re-dead-and-gone-larry
> 
> PSSS (or whatever). ALL MY ITALICS DELETED SO SORRY IF ITS NOT AS COOL, AND ALSO MY COMPUTER IS GAY SO IT DOES WEIRD THINGS SO THE FORMAT MAY BE WEIRD SORRY

“It’s an hour of your time.” My limited time. “It’s not that bad.” It’s fucking torture. My mum sighs, as she turns the key and turns off the car. “C’mon, babe. Just cooperate with me for once, yeah? I’ll buy you ice cream and I’ll make steak for dinner. And you can eat the ice cream before dinner.”

“I don’t like it in there.”

“I know, love, but the doctor suggested it.” She leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. “And remember. Ice cream before dinner.”

I roll my eyes, before unbuckling myself. “Fine. But I want rocky road with sprinkles.”

Mum holds her hands up as if in surrender. “Of course.”

“And I want to rub it in Fizzy’s face.”

“Of course, boo.”

I huff, before getting out of the car, and grabbing the oxygen tank that was resting on the floor in front of my feet.

Mum grins at me. “See you in an hour! Call if you need anything, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Then she’s pulling out of the parking lot, honking, and waving, and leaving me standing in front of the small rec center. I sigh, as I make my way to the ramp that leads into the side cafeteria. I drag the oxygen cart behind me, huffing and puffing, and wishing that mum knew I hated this and I hated almost everyone in this place.

When I’m standing at the doors, I take a deep breath, before pushing open the double doors.

Everyone looks up towards me, and when Carson (the stupid, obnoxious group leader) sees its me he squeals. “You’re here! Hi, Louis!”

“Hi.”

“Cookies and juice are on the table, then take a seat. Do you need help with your tank?”

“No, thanks.”

He shoots me an overly exaggerated smile, and then turns back to his conversation back to a girl who doesn’t look familiar – she must be new. Fan-fucking-tabulous.

I ignore the table with the juices and the cookies, and take my seat next to Mark. “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello, Louis.” He greets. He smiles, and I know it’s meant for me, but he’s not looking at me.

“See anything today?” I joke.

He laughs quietly. “Nah, mate. Breathe without your oxygen tank, today?”

“’Course not!”

We laugh. Mark’s blind, and I can’t breathe on my own, and we’re both fucked up, because of the same fucked up disease (just in a different form).

“Alright!” Carson says loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. In his hands are three cookies and a juice box. He takes his seat, and takes a bite of one of his cookies. “It’s wonderful to see all of you today! We’ve got on-“

The door opens suddenly, and everyone whips their heads around to look and see who it is – including me.

Standing in the doorway, scratching the back of their neck stands a boy with dark brown curls, and overly pink lips, and huge dimples.

“Oh, hello.” Carson greets, standing up again. He sets his cookies on his chair, and walks over towards the boy. “Who are you?”

“Harry.” The boy says. He holds out his hand for Carson to shake. “Is this the cancer group thing?”  
Carson nods. “Yes, it is. Come. Take a seat.” He turns back to all of us, and looks around. “I’ll grab another chair. You can sit next to Louis, there’s an empty spot there. Louis raise your hand, please.”

I raise my hand hesitantly, and the bo – Harry – smiles at me.

Harry sits next to me once Carson gets him a chair. He sits closer than necessary, and rests his hand on my knee. “Hope you don’t mind.” He whispers (Carson’s telling his stupid story, because we’ve got new “friends”). “I like getting close with new friends.”

He doesn’t move his hand for the rest of the session, and whenever he’s asked if he wants to talk, he smiles sweetly and shakes his head no. Carson doesn’t bother with me. I never want to talk, and today is no exception.

We’re released, and all offered to have the rest of the refreshments, but I just stand up, and grab the oxygen tank.

Harry stands up immediately after I do, and follows me as I walk slowly out of the center. “So, Louis. It’s Louis, right?”

I nod.

“I’ve got six months to live, and you?”

I whip around immediately, and stare at him. Six months to live? He’s so fit, and healthy looking. He’s got muscles, and I can see the ripples underneath his shirt.

“Um. A year. At most.”

Harry smiles, and I haven’t got a clue what he’s so happy about. He’s got six months to live, and he looks like he’s fucking beaming. “So, do you want me to come to yours, or do you want to come to mine?”

“Excuse me?” My eyes go wide. He’s not suggesting that we’re hanging out, is he?

“We are hanging out tonight, right?”  
“I don’t know you!”

Harry rolls his pretty green eyes. “My name is Harry, I’m eighteen, and I have six months to live.”

“My mum is picking me up, so I can’t.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Are you inviting yourself?”

Harry gives me a cheeky smile. “I have six months to live.”  
My mum pulls in a second later, and when she sees me, her eyes go wide instantly. I guess it is kind of a sight. Me talking to an actual human being. I don’t do that. Like, ever She rolls down the window, and calls out, “Lou?”

I turn to her. “Yeah, mum?”

“Who’s this?” She’s got this look of horror on her face.

I don’t know why until I turn back to Harry. He’s putting a cigarette in between his pretty pink lips, and moving it to the side of his lips. “Harry!”

“You can’t smoke around him!” My mum yelps.

Harry smiles, and takes the cigarette out of his mouth. “Hi, I’m Harry.”

“You can’t smoke around him.” Mum repeats.

“I know.” Harry says. “I don’t smoke.”

Mum furrows her eyebrows together. “But you ju-“

Harry gives her an award winning smile. “I like having something between my lips. And if I don’t light the cigarette then I can put it back in the pack and save it for later.” He shoves the cigarette back into the pack. He smiles at my mother again, before leaning over to shake her hand. “Hi, I’m Harry Styles, nice to meet you Mrs…”

“Tomlinson.” My mum says, taking his hand in his. “But call me Jay.”

“Jay.” Harry says.

I sigh. “Yeah, okay. It was nice meeting you and all, Harry, but we’ve got to go.” I look at my mom, and give her a tight lipped smile. “Don’t we mum.”

“Oh.” Harry says. He frowns. “I thought we were going to hangout, Lou?”

“I’m busy, a-“

My mother cuts me off. “Oh, Louis, that sounds wonderful! Harry, why don’t you come get ice cream with us, and then come over for dinner. If that’s alright with your mum?”

He smiles. “That sounds great, thanks, Mrs. Tomlinson.”

She laughs. “Jay, Harry, love!” She hits a button on her center console, and the back doors open up. “Lou, dear, sit back there with him, yeah?”

*

Mum gets me my rocky road with sprinkles, and Harry orders himself chocolate with a cherry on top. We eat in the backseat of the car, and Harry pops the cherry into his mouth, and then ties the stem into a knot with his tongue. He places it in my bowl, and then rests his hand on my knee for a second.  
On the way home, once we’re finished with our ice cream, Harry leans over across the console so that he can rest his hand on my knee again. “Hi, Boo.” He grins.  
I roll my eyes. “Mum, Harry wants to go home!”

My mum looks up at us in the mirror. “Harry?”

“No, I don’t, Mrs. Tomlinson. Louis’ just cross because now I know that you call him Boo.”

“Oh, he hates that nickname, but all of his little sisters call him that, and I do too. He’s just being a weenie.”  
“You’re a weenie.” Harry says.

“I’m not a fucking weenie.” I huff.

“Louis!”

“What?”

“Language. Harry doesn’t want to hear you badmouthing. You’ve only just met today, you don’t want to lose such a nice boy as a friend, do you?”

“Are you forgetting the fact that he almost killed me!?”

Harry speaks up. “I wasn’t gonna light it!”

I roll my eyes. “He invited himself, I didn’t even invite him, mum! He just put his hand on my knee, and practically raped me right in front of everyone!”

“I did not practically rape you!” Harry argues.

“You did though!”  
Harry chuckles. “Not really, Boo.”

“Don’t call me Boo!”  
Mum’s pulling into the driveway now. Lottie and Fizzy are both sitting on the porch swing, typing on their phones. Daisy and Phoebe are running around in the grass, Daisy chasing Phoebe with my old blue power ranger doll. “Harry, love, would you mind helping Louis out with his tank? He has a bit of trouble getting it up the stairs.”

“No, I don’t!”  
Harry just smiles sweetly like always. “I don’t mind.”

“Great. I’m going to start on the steak, babe.” Mum gets out of the car, and opens the door for Harry. I open the other door, and grab the oxygen tank, and hop out. “Boo, remember to switch out tanks, okay? You two can hangout in Louis’ room until dinner’s ready.”

Harry takes my tank from me, and then when we reach the stairs, uses on of his hands to help me up the stairs. Fizzy and Lottie both look up from their phones, and they’re suddenly in front of me.

“Well, hello.” Lottie says, smiling at Harry. “Who’s this, Lou?”

“I’m Harry!” Harry says.  
“Louis, did you make a friend?” Lottie says. “A hot friend?!”

“He’s not m-“

“Yes, he did.” Harry grins.

Lottie claps her hands. “Daisy, Phoebe!” she yells out to the girls. “Come meet Louis’ new boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boy-“

“Boyfriend!” Harry grins. He squeezes my hip. “Well howdy, boyfriend!”

“Louis has a boyfriend! Louis has a boyfriend! Louis has a boyfriend!” Phoebe and Daisy start chanting, as they hop around behind us. “Louis has a boyyyyyyfriend!”  
“He’s not my boyfriend!”  
Fizzy giggles. “Are you staying for dinner, Harry?”

“Yes.” Harry smiles at them. “But first, I’ve got to get the boyfriend a new oxygen tank.”  
Fizzy and Lottie move out of the way, and Harry waves to all of them, before dragging me along.

“They’re cute.” He says. We’re met with the stairs again, and he helps me up those too.

“Shouldn’t this be vice versa, Mr. Six-months-to-live.”

“I like helping, and I’m stronger than you are.” He squeezes my hip again. “You’re cute and small.”

“And you’ve got six months to live.”

He shrugs, “It is what it is.” He points to the hallway, “Which is yours, Boo?”

I roll my eyes. “The red one.”

He pushes the door with his foot, and we’re met with my room. He looks around for a minute, before grinning. “It’s cute.”

“S’not cute. It’s fucking manly.” I point to the signed football I have sitting on the shelf. “See that piece of art? Signed by the entire Man U team in 2006.”

Harry nods, but then points to the Christmas lights I have hanging around the ceiling, and the bookshelf full of books, and then the vase of flowers I have on the windowsill.

“Whatever. It’s manly.”

“It’s cute.” Harry repeats. He pushes me onto the bed, and then grabs another oxygen tank. “I dunno how to hook this up, babe, so you’re gonna have to teach me.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“Babeeee.”

I roll my eyes again.  
“Your eyes will get stuck in the back of your head if you keep doing that, Boo!”

“Don’t call me Boo!”

“Boo babe!” He giggles, and leans forward so that his elbows are leaning on my knees. “So, how d’ya hook this oxygen up?”

I hook it up, and he watches as I do everything. “Looks simple enough, but I think for the rest of our relationship you’ll be doing that. Don’t want to kill you before its time.”

“You’re very annoying.”

“Yes, but I’m hot.”

“A hormonal fourteen year old said that. Don’t take it to heart, sweetheart.” I pat his cheek, before reaching up on the bookshelf and grabbing a book. I grab a blanket off the end of my bed, and snuggle into the corner. Harry lays down next to me, and takes some of my blanket. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm.” He snuggles into my side, pushing his nose into my shoulder. “You’re pretty, Louis.”  
I scoff as I open Wool, and start reading where I left off. “Yeah, okay.”

“You are.” He says.

“I don’t have hair, and I have sunken in eyes, and I look like I could snap at any moment. I’m sure I’m gorgeous.”

Harry smiles, lazily. “You’re my kinda gorgeous.”

*  
This becomes routine. Harry comes over everyday (sometimes he doesn’t even leave – sometimes he just sleeps in my bed, and cuddles into my side as I read). He’s quiet, and he lets me read, and it’s nice to have some sort of friend.

When we’re not in my room, we’re sitting on the porch, Harry in between my legs, as I play with his curls. We babysit Phoebe and Daisy together when Lottie and Fizzy aren’t home.

Everyone in the house grows to love him. Even me.  
Lottie still thinks he’s hot as fuck (she sometimes sneaks into my room when he’s asleep and takes pictures of him. It’s creepy).  
He lets Fizzy play with his hair (when I’m not), and she loves this. She says she wants to become a hairdresser, and Harry lets her style him up.  
Phoebe and Daisy adore his baking. Actually, about everyone in the house adores his baking. He makes stellar cupcakes and cookies, and when he comes over he’s always got a whole bunch. Sometimes he even makes cupcakes in our oven, and lets the twins lick the spoon (if I haven’t already).  
My mum still thinks he’s just as lovely. He brings in the groceries for her, helps me up the stairs, and she just thinks he’s a good lad all around.  
Mark thinks he’s got a funny way of talking, and like the twins his favorite thing about Harry is his baking.

Harry and I are a month into our friendship sort of thing whenever he kisses me for the first time.

Mum and Mark took the girls out to a chick flick (“You boys are welcome to go, but it’s Lottie’s choice of movie, so I don’t know if you’d really want to!”). Harry is over (because when isn’t he?), and we’re watching Scooby Doo reruns on the huge flat screen in the living room.  
“Did you know that today has been a month since I met you?” Harry asks, as he reaches into the chip bowl to get another Dorito.

I shrug. “I guess.”

“That means I’ve got five months left.”

“And I have eleven.”

“Possibly. At the most.” He reminds me.

I laugh. “At the most.” I agree.  
Harry is weird. He’s open about everything (the last time he took a crap, how old he was when he got his first goldfish, what project he did in the year seven science fair, etc.), but he’s never told me the type of cancer he has. “What’re you thinking about, Boo?”  
I huff. He knows I hate it when he calls me that. “What type of cancer do you have?”

“Cancer?”

I raise my eyebrow. “Yeah. Cancer. We met at a cancer support group. You have si – five months to live.”

Harry laughs. “Oh, I don’t have cancer.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What? What do you mean you don’t have cancer? We literally met at a cancer support group, and you asked ‘Is this the cancer group thing?’ or some shit like that when you walked in.”

He shrugs. “I don’t have cancer.”  
“Of course you have cancer!”

“I’m serious, Boo. I don’t have cancer.”

“Wh-“

But he cuts me off, leaning forward to press a kiss to my lips. He kisses me hard, lips slotting perfectly with mine. His lip runs along my bottom lip, and my eyes close instantly. He ends the kiss, and as he pulls away, my eyes flutter open.

“So. Want to be boyfriends?” he gives me his cute little perfect smile. “For like. Five months?”

“Um.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

We don’t talk about Harry’s cancer – or him not having cancer – or whatever, for the rest of the night. When my parents come home, they find Harry passed out against my side, and my fingers tangled in his hair.

“Boyfriends!” Lottie squeals. Then she narrows her eyes. “Boyfriends. Right?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Everyone claps, until I tell them to quiet down. Harry doesn’t wake up throughout all of it. Except maybe he does, because when I look down again, he’s got a stupid little smile on his face.

*  
Our first date is the next day, and it takes Harry the whole morning to convince my mum to let him take me out and for me to spend the night at his house. He does, though, because my mum loves him, and after some begging, and a promise of cookies and cupcakes, she agrees.

Harry helps me pack, and then gets oxygen tanks, and carries them to his car. “My dad has been dying to meet you.” He says, as he helps me into the passenger seat. My sisters and my mum are sitting on the porch watching us.

“You live with your dad?”

Harry nods. “Yeah. My mum died last year.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah, she had breast cancer.”  
“Oh, go-“

“Don’t.” He says. He gives me a smile. “She was suffering, I’m glad she’s gone, she’s in a better place.”

I know we’re done talking about it.

We wave goodbye to the girls and mum, and then Harry is pulling out of the drive, and onto the road. “Where are we going?” I ask.

Harry laughs. “I’m not telling!”

“Is it romantic?”

He shrugs, as he turns onto a little dirt road. “I dunno. It’s pretty. But not as pretty as you.”

“Everything’s prettier than me.” I roll my eyes at him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing’s prettier than you, Lou-Lou. You’re the prettiest.” He’s so sweet, it’s almost sickening.  
“Lou-Lou? That’s new.”

“I heard Fizzy call you boo last night when they got home, and I thought, ‘What if when we’re having sex I say something like, “cum for me Boo!”’. That’d be so dirty, and every time I look at the girls I would feel dirty. I’m testing out different nicknames, so that this doesn’t happen.”

I choke on my spit.  
“Okay, bo-ug? Okay, bug?”  
“Are you saying we’re going to have sex?”

Harry looks over at me for a second his face saying something along the lines of “are you fucking retarded, of course we’re gonna have sex”. “Well. Yeah. I’m not dying a virgin, buddy.”  
Harry’s a virgin, and he’s implying we’re going to have sex? This is too much.  
“You’re a virgin?”  
Harry nods. “Yeah, been waiting for… what do girls say? The one.”

“The one is me?”

He laughs. “I think so. My dick does too. You touched me yesterday, and oooh my.”

He’s ruined it.

“You’re a romancer.”

“That’s my middle name.” He grins. He’s parking the car by now. “Harry The-Romancer Styles.” He takes the key out of the ignition, and then unbuckles. “Here we are.”

He’s out of the car in a second, and on my side. He opens the door for me, and helps me out. We’re in the middle of the woods, with a river right there. There’s a beach, and picnic tables everywhere. “Are you going to murder me?!”

“That’s the goal.” Harry replies, cheekily. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and points to a picnic table that has a tablecloth draped over it, and a picnic basket, and a little laptop, with DVDs beside it. “Go sit over there, I’ve got to get the cooler.”  
I do as I’m told, and Harry’s beside me in a few minutes. He hands me a Mountain Dew. “I know they’re you’re favorite.” He says. He opens his own soda, and takes a drink. “I made sandwiches, and cookies, and cupcakes, and I’ve even got some fresh watermelon in here, ‘cause I know you like that. I cut it into li-“ He’s rambling, so I lean foreward and press a kiss to his lips softly. “-ittle cubes.”

“It sounds perfect.”  
“It does?”

“Yes.”

He smiles, and then unpacks the food, and makes up a plate for me. He doesn’t put on too much of anything, because he knows my stomach can’t handle too much (he learned when he made dinner for us one night, and I felt bad leaving over half of it uneaten, so I ate it all, and later that night, threw up all over his lap. He rubbed my back, and told me it was okay, and I was pretty. I like Harry more than I like myself). “Too much, bug?”

“Perfect.” I say. I lean into his side. “Have you chosen to call me bug now?”

“Bug or Loubug. I think it suits you.”

“Why? Cause I’m gross like a little bug?”  
Harry sighs. “No. Cause bug’s cute. You’re my little bug.”  
“Am I?”

“Yes.” He says. He feeds me his cubed watermelon, and his ham and cheese sandwiches with mustard like I like, and a bite of his cookie, and then kisses me until I’m breathless and my lips are bright pink, and so are his. Then he puts in his favorite movie, and cuddles into my side until its dark, and he takes me back to his house, his hand in mine the whole ride home.  
When we’re in front of his little house, he looks over at me, and smiles. “Ready to meet my dad?”

I nod. “Born ready.”

He grabs my bags, and the oxygen tanks. “I’ll help you up the stairs once these are in the house, okay, bug?” And he does. He places his hands on my hips, and helps me up. He holds my hand as we walk inside the house. It’s decorated prettily, with pictures all over. There’s a coat rack with coats hanging on it by the door, and underneath a little basket full of shoes. “Dad!” Harry calls.

“In the kitchen, bud!” A voice calls back.

Harry grins, and walks me towards the brightly lit kitchen. Harry’s father is tall – but not as tall as Harry, and he’s wearing a white apron with the words ‘Kiss the Cook’ in bright red on the front. He’s got graying curls, and some grey stubble on his chin. “Hey, you’re home.” He sees me, and a grin makes its way onto his face. “You must be Louis! Harry talks about you all the time when he’s home. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He rushes forward and gives me a careful hug, which I return.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Call me Luke!” He says, pulling away, and grabbing a big white spoon that’s in a bucket.

“Whatcha making, dad?”

“Peppermint wine. Doesn’t that sound fabulous?” he asks. He stirs the liquid, and then gets a spoonful and holds it out for Harry. “Taste?”

Harry takes it, and makes a face. “Tastes like peppermint water, dad.”

“Well, it’s still in production, my boy. Hasn’t even got the alcohol in it yet!” He smacks Harry’s arm. “Now, Louis, your turn to taste it.” He gets another spoonful and holds it out to me, which I take. “Tell me what you think.”

I swallow it. “It’s good, Mr. Styles.”

“Luke.” Harry’s father says. “It’s Luke, my boy.”

“You don’t have to lie to him to make him feel better, bug.” Harry says, jabbing my side softly. “I know it’s awful.”

“Harry’s a mean boy, isn’t he?”

I nod. “Very mean.”

“Shut it you tosser!” Harry yelps.

Luke and I laugh. “Alright. Well, go on upstairs. No funny business!” He points the white spoon at us, and I swear I go beet red. “I mean it!”

Harry laughs, and pushes his dad’s spoon, before he turns to me. “Let me show \you my room, yeah, bug?”

I nod, and he leads me up the stairs, carrying my oxygen tank in one hand, and keeping his other on my waist. “I like him.” I say as we reach the top of the stairs.

“Yeah? Good.” Harry says. He smiles down at me, and presses a quick kiss to my forehead, before he’s pushing open a door with his foot, and we’re standing in front of his room.  
Harry’s room is gorgeous, if we’re being honest. It has a bunch of pictures of Harry and his family and friends taped all over the wall. You can’t see any of the wall, it’s all covered in Harry’s gorgeous face. The ceiling has space and moon and star stickers hung up. Harry has a desk with a computer and a radio with stacks of CDs piled on it. His bed is unmade, with stuffed animals on it, and lots of pillows and blankets, and it’s very Harry. He has a small TV hanging on the wall, with a shelf full of movies, and PlayStation games. There’s a little ripped up couch in the corner, with a plastic makeshift coffee table in front of it, and it’s simple, but it’s just. It’s him. It’s Harry.  
“It’s cute.” I say quietly.

“It’s not cute. It’s fucking manly!” he says. He grins at me, and I roll my eyes. He pinches my cheek. “Told you to stop rolling your eyes! They’re gonna get stuck back there one day, and I’m gonna laugh!”  
“Okay, Hazza. Sure.”

*

“Okay, Fizzy and the twins are at Nan’s, and Lottie is at a friend’s house. Are you positive you two will be fine?” my mum asks again, as she runs her hand through her hair again.

Harry and I both nod. “Of course.” He answers swiftly. He hands mum her purse, and she smiles at him, and leans forward to kiss his cheek. “I’ll take care of Lou. Always do.” He looks over at me, and smiles, before reaching his arm around me, and letting it rest on my bum. He squeezes softly, and I wince.

“Louis, you alright, babe?” my mum asks.

“Fine!” I squeak.

She bites her bottom lip. “Alright, alright. Mark and I will be back tomorrow by ten. If something happens call us, or call Mrs. Fields across the street, alright?”

We both nod again, and mum smiles at us. She gives us both a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and waves. “Love you!” she calls as she and Mark pull out of the driveway.

“Love you too!” Harry and I yell back in unison. As soon as they’re down the street and out of view, Harry turns to me with a grin on his lips.

“Are you ready, bug?”

I nod. “Born ready.”  
He nods, before grabbing my hand and pulling me up the stairs carefully. “We need to be careful, right?”

I nod. “Still need my oxygen.”

“’Course, bug.”  
When we’re in the bedroom, Harry lays me on the bed, and presses a kiss to my lips. His eyes don’t leave mine, and when he unlocks his lips from mine, he sets himself up. “Ready, baby?” He rolls off the bed, not waiting for my answer, before he’s pulling his pants off, and then shirt. He slips off his boxer so he’s standing in my room naked. “Chilly.” He murmurs.

I laugh, and he dips down and grabs my hands so he can pull me up. “So, if Google has this right…” he sits me up, and helps me sling my legs over the side of the bed, so he can grab the ankles of my grey sweats and pull them down, he raises his eyebrows. “No boxers today?”

“I remembered what day it was, thought it would be easier for you.” I say quietly, leaning up towards his neck. I press a kiss to his collarbone, and he leans down to pinch my thigh.

“So thoughtful, my little bug.” He tosses my sweats to the side, and then works carefully on my sweater that’s covering my bony stomach and arms. When it’s off, he presses kisses all along my chest. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

I look down, and shake my head. “’M not.”

He kisses my jaw line sloppily, whispering against me, “You are, Lou. You’re my gorgeous baby bug. Close your eyes.” I do as he says, and I feel him pressing kisses to my eyelids. “Your eyelashes are so pretty. Did you know that, Lou? You’ve got fantastic eyelashes.”

A small smile makes its way onto my lips. “Do I?”

Harry hums, “So pretty.” He pulls my beanie off my head. “Your head’s pretty too. You don’t even need hair to be pretty.”

I open my eyes, and lean forward into Harry. “Can we start now?”

Harry nods, a smile cracking his face, and showing his dimples off. “We can.” He pulls me up, and lays me on my stomach. “Still breathe okay, baby bug?” I nod, and he leans down and presses a kiss to my neck. “You’re gorgeous, really Louis.”

He gets off the bed, and walks across the room to his duffel bag. He grabs a blue bottle, and then comes back over. He straddles me again, hands on my hips, and lips on my ear.

“You alright with no condom?”

I nod eagerly. “W-Wanna. Wanna feel you. N-now, Hazza. Please.”

Harry hums. “Up on your knees, love. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

I nod, and sit up on my knees for him. “In.” I hiss.

“Want something in you, baby bug?”

“Yes.”

I hear him uncap the lid of the bottle of lube, and then I feel the cold liquid on my hole, and I shiver. Harry rubs the lube in, and then carefully, painfully slowly, pushes his finger in my entrance. “Good, baby?”

“C-Curl it.” I moan.

He does, and then goes straight again, and pulls in and out, in and out, in and out.

“Another!”

He quickly adds another, pushing it in. “So tight, my love. You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“N-not in a while. Another.”

He does, and then he’s rapidly pushing in and pulling out. My stomach is tightening.  
“G-gonna c-c-come.” I moan. “D-don’t want to c-come yet, Ha-a-azza.”  
“S’okay if you do, baby bug.” He attaches his lips to my neck, and begins sucking, making goose bumps cover my shoulders, and back, and arms. He detaches his lips from my neck for a second and mutters, “I’ll make you come more than once, lovely. Sound good, bug?” Once I nod eagerly, he places his lips back on the spot and continues sucking, still pumping his fingers in and out. When I’m breathless, and he’s done sucking, he makes his way near my ear and whispers throatily. “Come.”

I scream at the top of my lungs, and I’m coming. His love bite and his fingers and his voice are just too much for me. I come undone, and he presses sweet, soft kisses to my neck and jaw line, and pulls his fingers out. “I love you.” I sob.

Harry stops kissing, and touching, and doing anything. He sucks in a breath. “Oh, baby. Oh, I love you.” He grabs my face and pulls it towards me, and presses his lips to my lips in a kiss. He pulls back, and I see tears on his cheeks. “Oh, baby bug, I love you so much.” He pulls me into his chest, and holds me close. “Love you. Love you. Love you. Let me show you how much I love you, please?”

I nod eagerly. “Show me!” I demand. “Fuck me, Haz.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, baby bug. Now that we love each other, I won’t fuck you. Won’t fuck you, I won’t. Gonna make love to you.”

I sob against his chest. “S-so, ch-heesy.”

“But I love you.”  
He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He puts me back on my knees, and I turn my head around to watch him lube himself up. “S-so, big.” I murmur. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He says. He grabs my hips in his hands, and I feel him hovering above me. “Baby, you ready?”

I nod. “Yes.”

And then he’s pushing himself in, hissing as he does so. “You’re so tight, Louis!” He groans. “I can barely get in!” He huffs, but slowly pushes himself in, until he’s in the whole way. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my ear, biting down softly. “My pretty baby. My pretty, pretty, beautiful, bald, baby bug.”

“Four months.” I croak out, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Four months, Hazza.”

“Shh, Louis, lovely, focus on right now. Want me to move?”

I nod eagerly, up and down, quickly. “Now.”

He does so. He pulls out just a little, and takes a deep breath, “Love you, Louis,” he musters, before he slams into me, hitting my prostate immediately. I scream at the top of my lungs, and he reaches down to grab my penis, and pumps it with his huge hands. “Baby, come for me, baby. Can you?”

I nod. Anything for Harry. I’d do anything for Harry.

“Scream my name, bug.” He encourages. “Loud and proud, pretty boy.” He pushes in a bit further, as if he can’t get any closer, but he does, and I’m sobbing by now. “Go.”

I do. I come all over myself and the bed, and scream Harry’s name as loud as I can, my throat burning as I do so. I cry it out, and grab onto his knees, putting scratch marks on the pale skin. “L-love you.”

“Love you too.” He murmurs quietly, pressing a kiss to my cheek.  
He begins to pull out, but I stop him, taking a deep gulp of air as I do so. “L-lay with me ins-i-ide me, please.” I beg.

Harry chuckles quietly, “Whatever you want, sweet boy.”

“Want you. Forever.”

“You’ve got me for four months, lovely.”

“And then what?” I whisper.

Harry begins laying down, pulling me down along with him, tangling our legs together. Harry checks the tubes that are connected to my oxygen tank that’s sitting at the end of the bed. “Seven months till we meet again, baby bug.”

*

I know something’s wrong when Harry calls me at three in the morning on one of the odd nights that he doesn’t stay at my house cuddled against me. “Louis.” He cries.

I sit up instantly. “Baby?”

“Louis, y-you love me?”

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” He practically screeches. “Louis, tell me you love me!” he cries out, desperation clear in his voice. “Lou-ouis, please!”’  
“I-I love you.” I croak.

Harry cries, and he starts to say something, but he’s cut off by someone opening the door in his room and yelling something at him. “I love you, I love y-“

The phone line goes dead, and I throw my phone across the room, and scream, “Mum!”

My mum comes running, opening the door in her pink boot slippers and matching pink robe. “Baby? What’s wrong?!” she yells, running towards me. “Oxygen tank?” she asks, her voice full of panic.

“Harry!” I yell. “S-something’s wrong with Harry!”

My mum breathes out a sigh of relief. “Don’t scare me like that.” She says softly. “Baby, what’s wrong with Harry?”

“C-called me. Called me a-and a-asked me if I-I loved him, a-and then hea-ard b-banging noise, and he was g-g-gone.” I stutter, crying, clutching my sheets. “Mummy, n-need my Harry!

My mum sighs, and pats my head. “Call him back, and ask him if it’s alright if Mark comes and gets him. Since you’re so worried about him. I’ll go wake Mark.” She leans down, and hands me my phone. I hit the redial button, and Harry’s face pops up.

He doesn’t answer until it’s about to go to voicemail. “Baby bug.” He cries. “I-“

“Can Mark come get you?” I ask, voice barely a whisper. “Need you.” I whimper.

“Y-yeah, of course, baby bug. I-I’ll be a-at the end of my street. Just… I… thank you, baby bug.” He whispers. “Love you.” He hangs up, and I put the phone on my nightstand, and begin sobbing.

I hear footsteps outside my bedroom door, and Mark opens the door, wearing a pair of sweats and a too-small sweatshirt. “Is it alright if I go get him, Lou?”

“He’ll be at the end of the street. Thank you.”

Mark just nods, before he pulls the door closed. A minute later I hear the car pulling out of the driveway. I sit in bed, knees pulled to my chest, and tears slipping down my cheeks. I don’t like hurt Harry. I’ve never seen hurt Harry. I’ve never heard hurt Harry.

When Harry does arrive, Mark is with him when he’s brought to my room. It’s dark, but even with just the moonlight as the only light in my room, I can see bruised lips and a swollen eye. “Baby.” I croak.

“Hi, bug.” He whispers.

I scoot towards the wall, and pat beside me, so Harry can climb in. He’s careful of my tubes, and when he’s successfully in, he pulls me close to him. “I’ll bring you some frozen peas for your bruises, Harry. And some pain pills.”

Harry nods. “Thank you, Mark.”

I’m sobbing into his shirt, holding onto the bottom of it. “Harry, I-I wh-what happen-n-ed?”

“I…”

He’s cut off by Mark opening the door holding a bag of frozen peas in the crook of his elbow, and a glass of water with two pills. He sets the glass on the nightstand, and hands Harry the peas and the pills. “I’m going to go back to bed, boys. Catch a few winks ‘fore I have to get up. If you need anything, call for me or Jay, okay, boys?” he asks. We both nod, and he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry hands me the peas, and I hold them up to his eye as he takes the pills and drinks the water. He takes the peas from me, and then presses them to his bruised lip.

“What happened?” I ask quietly.

Harry looks down at me, wiping tears off my cheeks with his thumb. He sighs, before he begins talking, “My dad, got… um. Upset.”

“Your dad?” I croak. I’d met Harry’s dad! And he was the doting daddy. He loved Harry, or he had. He’d loved Harry to death when I’d spent the night the past few times.

Harry nods, and squeezes my arm. “Ye-yeah. My dad… he’s a… um, bad drunk.” He pauses, before he squeaks out, “It… it doesn’t happen a lot! I swear! He, just… he gets mad at me. It was my fault. I-I didn’t know he was drunk when I got home, and I asked him if he wanted to go see mum, and he… it’s not his fault. Was mine.”

“He beats you…” I say slowly.

“He doesn’t!”

“Harry.”

“Louis…” he pleads. “Louis, h-he doesn’t want to talk about mum, and I did.” Harry has tears streaming down his cheeks. “I… he doesn’t beat me all the time!”

“But, baby, he beats you sometimes.” I say quietly. I lean up to kiss his jaw. “Why doesn’t he want to talk about your mum?”

“B-because he do-oesn’t, b-because he th-hinks tha-that,” he’s stuttering horribly, and basically gasping for air, “th-th-tha-“

“Calm down, love.”

“He blames me for her dying!” he yells out, before he’s sobbing into my shoulder, the peas long forgotten and leaking on my lap. “I-I got in trouble last year, so we couldn’t afford her chemo t-treatm-men-nt, I… I g-got involved with this guy, he… he told me he loved me, all that good shit, you know?” When I nod, he continues. “He told me he w-was… he w-was at the bank to get money f-f-for the movies. And… he, er, he came out, and held a gun to my head and told me to drive or he… he’d blow my brains out. He made me leave him out on the side of a highway, and… and he left the gun he’d used to kill th-three hostages with, with me, and I-I had to go to court, and I… I almost lost. And my mum had cancer, and I was such a stu-stupid fucking kid, and…” he breaks off, grabbing my and pulling me as close to himself as he possibly can, “Oh, god, oh, please don’t… please don’t leave me. I-I n-need you. Louis, I love you, I love you.”

“Shh, Haz, s’okay. I love you, Harry, baby. I’m not going to leave you.” I tell him, kissing his curls. “Go to sleep, baby. We can talk later.”

He falls asleep after another hour of sobbing and countless whispers of ‘I love you’.

*

“I love you.” Harry tells me, for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

“I know, baby.”

Harry nods, and rubs my arm, before nuzzling in closer to me. “I… Louis…” he drops off, “never mind.” He sighs, before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Goodnight, baby bug. I love you so much.”  
“I love you too, Harry.” I whisper back, pressing my back closer to him. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”  
“I love you, Louis.” He says.

“I love you more.”

*

I wake up at three in the morning to the sound of loud sobs and a cold bed. When my eyes open, and I roll over to pat Harry’s side of the bed, I see him sitting on the floor, with a tangled rope in front of his feet. “F-fuck.” He sobs. “Fuck!”

I sit up in bed, “Harry?”

His head snaps up, and his eyes go wide. “Louis!” He’s on his feet in an instant, and he pushes my shoulders down. “Louis, go back to sleep.”

“What are you doing?” I sit back up, and sling my legs over the side of the bed.

“Nothing, bug. Go to sleep.”

“Harry.” I get out of the bed, careful of my tubes, and pick up the tangled rope that’s lying on my carpet. “Why are you crying… and why is there a bunch of rope? Harry, what are you doing?” There’s a bunch of crumbled paper lying all over the carpet. I pick up a piece.

“Louis!” he yelps, trying to grab it for me, but I’ve already got it opened.

Lou,  
Six months. Six months since I met you, baby. You’re probably a mess right now, probably keep thinking ‘Why would he do that?!’ I killed my mum. I was such a fuc-

Harry rips the note out of my hand, and throws it across the room, before using his arm to push the rest of them back.

“Were you going to kill yourself?!” I practically scream.

“Quiet, Louis.” He hisses.

“Harry!”

He huffs. “Go back to bed, Louis. I’ve got things to take care of.”

My eyes go wide, and I bite my bottom lip. “That’s not happening! No! Get back in bed and go to sleep!”

Harry picks me up off the floor, and tucks me into the bed, ignoring my protests. “Louis, go to sleep, love bug.” He kisses my forehead. “Love you, remember?”

“Harry!” I cry, desperate for him to hold me. “Harry, you… you’re not going to!”

Harry kisses my lips softly. “ Baby bug, I have to.”

“No.” I croak. “No, you don’t.

Harry sighs, and climbs into bed next to me. He helps me sit up, and pulls me in between his legs. “Louis, my mum’s been dead for a whole year.” He’s quiet, so quiet I barely hear him. “I… I promised myself that I would do it. To be with her. And… my dad doesn’t want me around. I… Louis, this is best.”

My heart’s beating frantically, HarryHarryHarry.

“And, think about it this way… in another six months, you’ll probably be ready to come see me too. And you’ll meet my mum, baby bug.” He kisses my hair. “Lou, you’ve got to let me do this.”

I shake my head violently, tears falling from my eyes onto my lips. “No!” I scream.

“Louis, shh.” He tries.

But it’s too late. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, and my mum and Mark coming running into my room, ripping the door open, eyes frantic. My mum rushes in, “Louis, lovely!” she lifts my chin and checks every aspect of my face. “Louis, what’s happened?! Why are you crying?”

“H-Harry.” I moan, grasping onto his pajama pants. He’s unwrapped his arms from me, and he’s trying to back up, but I won’t let him. With everything I have, I hold on to him, because I can’t lose him.

“What about Har-“

My mum is cut off by Mark clearing his throat. Everyone snaps their heads up to look at him. He’s holding one of the notes in one hand and the rope in the other. “Harry, what’s this?”

“I…” he stutters. “I-It’s… my er…”

“Suicide note?” he asks quietly.

Harry bursts into tears.

*

“Are you getting better love?” Harry asks quietly.

I cough, and try to get deeper into the covers. “I-I don’t k-kn-know. I… um, I guess?”

“Oh, lovely… I wish I was there with you. It’s shit here without you.”

“H-how’s your fri-friend?”

“Niall?” he asks. “Oh, he’s great! He’s insane. Here because he’s a “raging alcoholic”! Thinks it’s some sort of joke.” Harry laughs loudly.

“Want to meet him someday…” I say, before tagging onto it, quietly, “if I make it.”

Harry hears it though, and he sighs. “Hey, shh, don’t talk like that. I talked to your mum earlier, and she said the chemo was doing wonders. She said your doctors are very pleased with the results. Did you know that a year and two months since we met? That means you’re two months over what you were supposed to live, baby bug. And I am so proud of you!”

I sigh, “Wh-when do you come home?”

“Three months, lovely boy.” He sighs. “Time’s almost up, though. But, hey! Your mum said your chemo treatment is done in a month in a half if all goes well. Then you can come visit me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I say softly.

“Alright. Love you, baby bug. Stay safe, alright?”

“Always.” I murmur. “I love you too, Hazza.”

“I’ll call you next week, alright? Want to hear all about your week! And you better do something exciting! Finish that book, would you?” he laughs quietly. “I love you so much.”

He hangs up, and I lay my phone on the bedside table, and slide further into the covers, and begin crying. I cry until I make myself sick, and I lean over my bed to throw up into the bin that my mum put beside my bed. Then I push it over, and lay on my side, and cry again.

*

“How was the last chemo treatment?” Harry asks, loudly as soon as I get the phone from my mum.

“Hello, Harry.” I laugh.

“Louiiiiiiiis.” He whines. “Tell me! How was it!? Is it over?”

“It’s over. It was the same as always. But this time, my sisters and my mum came. And the nurses brought me a stuffed animal and a cake. I’ll eat the cake later though, because the treatment still makes me sick.”

Harry squeals.

“Did you just squeal, Harry Styles?”

He ignores my question, and instead shouts, “Baby bug, you’re okay!”

“I feel a bit sick, yeah, but I’m okay.” I smile.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers. “When are you coming to visit me, love?”

“I think Monday.”

“And you’re bringing me McDonald’s, right?”

“Of course.”

Harry chuckles. “Good. Rehab facility food sucks. Don’t ever go to rehab.”

“Chemo sucks.” I reply. “Don’t ever get cancer.”

“I won’t.” he says. “S’long as you don’t ever get so stupid you try to kill yourself and land yourself in rehab.”

“’Course not.” I agree.

“Lou?”

“Hmm?”

He sighs, happily. “Want to get married?”

“No.”

Harry gasps, exaggerating his surprise at my answer. “What? Did you just say no to the king?”

“You’re not the king.” I retort. “I’m the king. And kings like me don’t accept marriage proposals when they’re so lame like yours. I want a proper proposal, Harry Edward Styles! With doves, and roses, and you on one knee! Not a lame one over the phone!” I clap my hands. “Get to it!”

Harry laughs loudly. “I’ll get right to it, your highness.”

“Good.”

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you more.” I say, looking at the clock. I’ll see you Monday, yeah? I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He sighs. “I believe it is. Don’t forget my McDonald’s!”

“Of course not.” He says loudly, before his voice breaks off into a whisper, “I’m glad your cancer free, bug. I’m so proud of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: teenytinylittlelouis.tumblr.com


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